


I prefer blondes

by variasmist



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alcohol, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 06:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11549619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/variasmist/pseuds/variasmist
Summary: Oneshot for a prompt - "I Prefer Blondes"





	I prefer blondes

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse my jumbled writing I'm not good at this ahaha

“Ah, there’s nothing quite like the squelching gurgle of someone drowning in their own blood, wouldn’t you agree?” sang a cheerful blonde as he pulled on the handful of wires, slicing through the lifeless corpse in front of him. The body fell in a heap in the dirt surrounding the two hitmen, blood pooling around their feet.

“Hm? no, I wasn’t paying attention,” chirped the second, _clearly_ more interested in the book he was skimming.

 Bel pulled out a clean knife out of god knows where, lining up his shot at Fran’s frog hat, “I said-”

“Oh no, I _heard_ what you said I just stopped caring,” Fran said raising his hand in mock defense, “Something about turgling or something… Whatever, you’re twisted”. He seemed to think on what he said, dull expression plastered on his face as his glorified babysitter visibly got angrier and angrier. Bel was about to yell at him when he spoke up again, interrupting his partner’s train of thought, “Oh yeah didn’t you say earlier that you wanted to go check out that new bar in town?”. 

Bel lowered his knife, a grin lighting up his face “Shishishi, I did, didn’t I?” He threw the knife into the back of Fran’s hat.   


**~oOo~**

 

“Bel I’m not sure about this, we look really out of place,” Fran looked around the room of middle-aged men drowning themselves in liquor.

 Bel smiled pulling at his striped shirt, “It’s the bloodstains isn’t it?” All he got was a half-assed eyebrow raise in return. “Okay, fuck off, Frog, that was funny”. He strode up to the bar and flagged down a bartender.

 “If you say so...” The whole atmosphere was kind of weird, Fran had imagined more of a nightclub kind of vibe considering the part of town, guess he was wrong. He quickly caught up to Bel at the bar, sitting down on the stool next to where his partner was standing. He caught a glimpse of the self proclaimed prince smiling at the girl pouring two shots of Sambuca.

 The blonde thanked the bartender and slapped a card down on the bar, sliding one down to where Fran sat, taking a seat himself.

 Fran picked up his shot glass catching a whiff of the dark liquor, lowering his glass almost immediately, “I think the fuck not,” he moved to put the glass back down on the bar but Bel’s hand shot out to stop him.

 “Oh, come on, don’t be a pussy,” Bel teased back, motioning Fran’s glass back to his face. 

Fran wrinkled his nose at the smell that was brought back, “No thanks, don’t you remember what happened last time?,” He smiled, “Because I sure as Hell don’t”.

 The dark haired girl wandered back over to the duo, pouring a glass of cola each from the tap, placing the glasses down between the two hitmen. She watched as the two downed their shots, laughing as shorter one made a disgusted face as he put his shot glass down.

 Fran poked out his tongue as he reached for the cola provided, “Uh.. Thanks,” he mumbled and took a sip, “I fucking hate you”.

 Bel laughed, placing his glass down next to Fran’s, also opting to drink the chaser provided.

 “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?,” The girl at the bar spoke, clearing away the two empty glasses, she smiled at Fran, “Anything I can get ’cha?”.

 Fran thought for a second, “can I get a McFuckin uhhhhhh Absinthe?”

 “Coming right up,” She turned to Belphegor, “And you?”.

 “Just a cider, whatever’s on tap,” He turned to Fran and looked past him at the bartender as she walked off, “She’s cute,” He nudged his counterpart in the arm, “You should ask her out”.

 “No thanks, I’m good,” Fran deadpanned as he finished off the last of his cola, placing the glass down and traced circles around the rim with his finger.

 The girl came back with their drinks, Bel nudged Fran again, a little harder this time.

 “Fuck off, Fake Prince, I’m not asking her out, she’s not even my type”.

 The barkeep smiled at their jostling, of course she had heard all of their bickering, “And why not?” She asked, deciding she was going to play along.

 “Because,” Fran picked up his shot and downed it immediately, “ _I prefer blondes_ ”.

  
  



End file.
